


To Kiss the Damned - Obey Me

by Wingedmaiven



Series: Devildom Consort Series [5]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Desire, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kissing, Light Angst, POV First Person, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23980564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wingedmaiven/pseuds/Wingedmaiven
Summary: First person view of a certain first kiss Lucifer shared.  It's in Lucifer's point of view so enjoy.  ;)  Today, May 3rd is my birthday so, this is a gift to me.
Relationships: Lucifer & Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Female Character(s), Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Lucifer/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Series: Devildom Consort Series [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2040346
Comments: 20
Kudos: 195





	To Kiss the Damned - Obey Me

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! 
> 
> This is totally self-indulgent and completely because I wanted to write something fluffy the only way Lucifer can do fluffy, since utterly sugary is just not his style. This takes place during Devildom Consort if you want placement as far as the arc timeline. Otherwise, you can enjoy it however you will. 
> 
> Thank you to @Mandymo0n for reading this before I posted because I was a loon, and thank you to @troxonilda10 on twitter for asking me to write a fluff. 
> 
> In any case guys, enjoy, I know I did.

**_To Kiss the Damned_ **

****

****

_She kissed me._

_She kissed the devil._

_Only a beautiful soul_

_like hers would kiss the_

_damned._

_-Daniel Saint_

When our lips met, I felt what it truly meant to fall. 

My much debated falling out with the Father I will not reiterate. It is old news and I wish to move passed it. I would say that I leapt down. I chose. We all chose. There was no hesitation in that. I knew what it was I wanted, and I knew the price. This became clear when Lilith met her Angelic death. I made the right choice; I will leave it at this. 

Kiss her? This was also a choice. Her holding that fishbowl in her practically see-through pajamas would not have been my choice, nor the hallway the place; but it was the right decision. When our lips met, I knew _nothing_ in this was in my control. I fell into that embrace not knowing if I would come out of it whole. 

I didn’t. 

She took a part of me in that moment, and for the first time in millennia; I do not know what to do. I know what I _want;_ this is easy enough. My body craves her with a need I can only equate to my demonic disposition to relieve humans of their souls. I want her to crave me, to desire me, but it isn’t _enough._ That kiss stripped me of something, I dare not think what. 

Trite. I would consider this trite were I not experiencing it firsthand. A _demon_ who loses their head over a _human_ female. I have read _that_ trope and I find it wanting. Yet here I am, _me_ of all demons, _me_ who seduced Eve herself, floundering over a human woman; I hardly believe it as I sit not but a room from her. 

I feel something akin to nervousness and inwardly rally myself. Why was she affecting me so? She was in enough control of her faculties to remind me of the time and place. All I could think about was how to get the fucking fishbowl out of her hands so I could bury myself in her body as soon as it was convenient for us both. 

I left her presence to deal with my brothers and even during my tirade about the damage they’ve done, I wondered still; what did she take from me when our lips met? What did I give her without my knowledge? Why did I fall with this kiss?

No answers came forth even after I walk into the bedroom with Leviathan debating where he wants to sleep. He is watching her sleep and every fiber of my being screamed what I did not want to acknowledge head on; _mine._

Why? 

Why is my body claiming someone I never had? Why am I arguing with my _weeb_ brother about sleeping arrangements? Why do I have the urge to throw him from my room so that I can take my time in kissing her awake, touching her body, making her mi-… _fuck_. 

I watch her wake, laugh at our behavior, have a _conversation_ on my bed about her _family_ as if we did this every time my brothers did something fucking stupid. It is as natural to me as it clearly is to her. When she ends up in my arms again, I feel what it truly meant to fall. Not knowing how this feeling would end, where I will end up, if I will land on my feet or on my face. I knew nothing, the press of her body being my only guide. 

Why did her comfort in my presence, in my embrace mean so much to me? When did I come to crave her casual touch? I started this seduction because she decided to make me _last._ I want to prove she would not resist me that long. 

This was not working. 

She was wholly unaffected by my proximity, at least not affected the way I was. She desired me, I said this, I claimed it, but the need to touch me, to savor me, this I could not sense within her. It grates, it, _hurt._ Where did this pain in my chest come from?

When did it start to matter if she _wants_ to hold me, to embrace me? 

Laying down to sleep beside her is futile.

I cannot find sleep when the object of my desire is close, but untouchable. I like to think I was restraining myself because Leviathan was in the bed with us, but I am _Lucifer_. I stop for nobody, nothing, least of all a younger sibling whose passions are spent on entertainment. 

No.

My body refused to seek the refuge of sleep because I wanted her arms around _me._ Yes, I, the first son of God, the eldest of the fallen, wanted to be held by a woman who a few weeks ago loathed me, or at the least disliked me intensely. I was a walking fucking cliché. 

_How the mighty have fallen indeed._

When she shifts, turning to me and opening her arms, I feel breathless, the constant bedfellow that was my yearning for her these last couple of weeks since deciding on her, doubled down. I realize I took too long because she tucked herself back in gently; _what the fuck was wrong with me? I do not fucking hesitate!_

I need to get up and leave, so I do not feel more like a besotted fool than I clearly am. Contrary to popular opinion, I self-reflect enough to know when I am being ridiculous. This is one of those moments. 

I see her shift again, opening her arms for me, and this time demanding I hurry. I want to kiss her, I want to…I am better off not going down this train of thought. I reply something, I am sure it walked out of my mouth as arrogantly as I hoped, to cover for the deep sense of need I was feeling. 

She moved into my arms wrapping her body gently around mine, and if I could crow in triumph I would. The nagging question came back into my head as she fell into slumber in the cradle of my embrace. 

What happened? Why did I fall so utterly, completely, unequivocally into this woman? 

The answer finally came and explained why it was I love her so. 

_She kissed the devil._

_She loves enough to kiss the damned._


End file.
